I own a mansion but live in a house A king-size bed but I sleep on the couch I'm Mr. Brightside, glass is half-full But my tank's half empty, gasket just blew

This always happens Thirty minutes from home, gotta lay a log cabin Only option I have's McDonalds's bathroom In a public stall, droppin' a football So every time someone walks in the john, I get maddened "Shady, what up?" What? Come on, man, I'm crappin' And you're askin' for my goddamn autograph on a napkin? Oh, that's odd, I just happened To run out of tissue, yeah, hand me that On second thought I'd be glad then "Thanks, dawg! Name's Todd, a big fan." I wiped my ass with it Crumbled it up in a wad and threw it back and Told him: "Todd, you're the shit," when's all of this crap end? Can't pump my gas without causing an accident Pump my gas, cut my grass, I can't take out the fuckin' trash Without someone passin' through my sub, harassin' I'd count my blessings, but I suck at math I'd rather wallow than bask sufferin' succotash But the ant-acid, it gives my stomach gas When I mix my corn with my fuckin' mashed Potatoes, so what? Ho, kiss my country bumpkin ass! Missouri Southern roots, what the fuck is upper class? Call lunch dinner, call dinner supper Tupperware in the cupboard, plasticware up the ass Stuck in the past—iPod, what the fuck is that? B-Boy to the core, mule, I'm a stubborn ass

Maybe that's why I feel so strange Got it all, but I still won't change Maybe that's why I can't leave Detroit It's the motivation that keeps me goin' This is the inspiration I need I can never turn my back on the city that made me And (life's been good to me so far)

They call me classless, I heard that, I second and third that Don't know what the fuck I'd be doin' if it weren't rap Probably be a giant turd sack But I blew, never turned back Turned 40 and still sag—teenagers act more fuckin' mature, Jack Fuck you gonna say to me? I leave on my own terms, asshole I'm goin' berzerk, my nerves are bad But I love the perks my work has I get to meet famous people, look at her dag Her nylons are ran, her skirt's snagged And I heard she drag-races, burp swag Tuck in my Hanes shirt tag You're Danica Patrick (Yeah?) word, skag We'd be the perfect match 'Cause you're a vacuum, I'm a dirtbag My apologies, no disrespect to technology But what the heck is all of these buttons? You expect me to sit here and learn that? Fuck I gotta do to hear this new song from Luda? Be an expert at computers? I'd rather be an Encyclopedia Britannica, hell with PlayStation, I'm still on my first man on some Zelda Nintendo, bitch! Run, jump, punch, stab, and I melt the Mozzarella on my spaghetti Put in on bread, make a sandwich with Welch's, and belch They say this spray butter is bad for my health, but I think this poor white trash from the trailer Jed Clampett, Fred Sanford, and welfare Mentality helps to keep me grounded That's why I never take full advantage of wealth, I Managed to dwell within these parameters Still crammin' the shelves full of Hamburger Helper I can't even help it, this is the hand I was dealt, a Creature of habit, feel like I'm trapped in an animal shelter With all these pet peeves, goddamn it, to hell, I Can't stand all these kids with their camera cellphones I can't go anywhere, I get so mad I could yell, the Other day, someone got all elaborate And stuck a head from a fuckin' dead cat in my mailbox Went to Burger King—they spit on my onion rings I think my karma is catchin' up with me

Maybe that's why I feel so strange Got it all, but I still won't change Maybe that's why I can't leave Detroit It's the motivation that keeps me goin' This is the inspiration I need I can never turn my back on the city that made me And (life's been good to me so far)

Got friends on Facebook all over the world Not sure what that means, they tell me it's good So, I'm artist of the decade, I even got a plaque I'd hang it up, but the frame is all cracked

I'm tryin' to be low-key, hopefully nobody notices me In produce, hunched over, giant nosebleed Ogre style as I mosey over to the frozen aisle By the frozen yogurt this guy approached me Embarrassed, I just did Comerica with Hova The show's over, I'm hidin' in Kroger, buyin' groceries He just had front-row seats Told me to sign this poster, then insults me "Wow! Up close didn't know you had crow's feet!" I'm in the crossroads, lost, still shoppin' at Costco's Sloppy Joe's, bulk waffles Got caught picking my nose (agh!) Look over, see these two hot hoes Finger still up one of my nostrils Right next to 'em, stuck at the light, the fuckin' shit's Takin' forever to change, it's stuck, these bitches are lovin' it Rubbin' it in, chucklin', couldn't do nothin' Play it off, "What you bumpin'?" "Trunk Muzik, Yelawolf's better," fuckin' bitch! They want me to flip at the label, but I won't succumb to it The pressure, they want me to follow up with Another one, after Recovery was so highly coveted But what good is a fuckin' recovery if I fumble it? 'Cause I'ma drop the ball if I don't get a grip Hoppin' out shrubbery on you sons of bitches Wrong subdivision to fuck with, bitch Quit snappin' fuckin' pictures of my kids I love my city, but you pushed me to the limit—what a pity! The shit I complain about It's like there ain't a cloud in the sky and it's rainin' out Kool-Aid stain on the couch, I'll never get it out But bitch, I got an elevator in my house Ants and a mouse—I'm livin' the dream!

Maybe that's why I feel so strange Got it all, but I still won't change Maybe that's why I can't leave Detroit It's the motivation that keeps me goin' This is the inspiration I need I can never turn my back on the city that made me And (life's been good to me so far)